


made of myths

by queeroic



Category: Marble Hornets, Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types
Genre: Crossover, Gen, Implied Relationship, M/M, but pjo crossovers are the best okay shh, i guess, i literally did this in a day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-14
Updated: 2014-09-14
Packaged: 2018-02-17 09:33:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2304947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queeroic/pseuds/queeroic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So Jay pulls the bag full of clothes further onto his shoulders and marches inside the Camp borders, stepping into a completely different world. (mh/pjo semi-crossover)</p>
            </blockquote>





	made of myths

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this in a day, and it's probably really bad, but still.
> 
> it's in time slots of about 200+ words each time, and i'll probably add more in separate chapters later of in-between times, before and after, but for now-- enjoy!

“It’s a camp,” he’s told, “for special children like you. Half-bloods.”  
  
 _Children of the gods._  
  
Jay can hardly believe it, but when faced with the entrance of the camp ( _Camp Half-Blood_ borders it, written first in English he can’t read and then it changes into Greek he _can_ ) he has to. For a moment he can only stare up at it, dumbfounded, until he’s pushed in by his mother, who gives him a tight smile and a wave before she’s spinning on her heel and leaving.  
  
(He’s a reminder of the god she once had and then lost because of _him_ , all because of the rule Zeus put through. She misses the _could have beens_ that were never even there, the daydreams of being a goddess with his father that were quickly put to rest when he abandoned them both.)  
  
He’s not quite a kid, just hit sixteen, and left at a camp that he has no idea about. Most kids usually join at a younger age, he’ll learn later, but the constant moving his mother put them through meant that they were kind of, mostly okay to leave it until later.  
  
Why his mother didn’t get rid of him earlier, Jay doesn’t know. Maybe she hoped that his father would return to them, if he was still there.  
  
He didn’t.  
  
So he pulls the bag full of clothes further onto his shoulders and marches inside the Camp borders, stepping into a completely different world.

* * *

He’s first introduced to Chiron, once a friendly camper with shining blonde hair and pretty pink lips is willing to show him the way.  
  
Chiron’s a centaur, something Jay had always thought existed only in myths, but then he remembers that he pretty much _is_ a myth, so he forgets about that quickly.  
  
“Welcome to the camp,” he’s told, kindly and warmly, as though it’ll make this situation any less confusing than it actually is. Jay grips the straps of his bag tighter, looks to the side where a grumpy old man is playing pinochle with a half-goat guy, and the man only grunts in response, saying something along the lines of _yes, yes, welcome to camp, john morrell._  
  
That’s Mr. D, he’s told. Dionysus. An actual god.  
  
 _Holy shit_.  
  
“Until you are claimed by your godly parent, you’ll be staying in the Hermes Cabin, the 11 th one,” Jay nods, as though he gets everything that’s going on around him when really he’s as lost as anyone could be. “I’ll lead you there now,” and the centaur turns to the god (and is this some kind of joke?) “I expect my cards to be exactly as they were upon my return, Dionysus.”  
  
The god grumbles bitterly.

* * *

The first time he meets Seth, it’s inside the Cabin he’s been guided to.  
  
Jay hadn’t expected anyone else to be inside, so when he sees there’s another kid, he almost backtracks out, perhaps to wait for him to leave. But the kid looks up from the camera he’s playing with, the tip of his tongue that was hanging out in concentration sliding back into his mouth, and he grins, bright and friendly.  
  
“Hey! You’re the new kid that came in today, right?”  
  
Jay starts, and looks around for a second before nodding. “How’d you know?” Because, y’know, it’s not like he’s been there for long.  
  
“You asked one of the Aphrodite kids for help. They can’t keep a secret to themselves,” the kid stands up, laying the camera down on the bed he’d vacated, and steps close enough to Jay to stick his hand out in greeting. “The name’s Seth, son of Hermes.”  
  
And Jay thinks it’s going to take a while to get used to _son/daughter of_ following up every introduction. Maybe he’ll learn to tell them apart, instead of having them tell him every time.  
  
“Jay. I, uh—I don’t know who my parent is,” he shuffles uncomfortably, taking the hand into his own loosely and giving it two quick shakes before dropping it. Seth doesn’t seem to mind, and instead nods, like this is a daily occurrence. For all Jay knows, it could be. He doesn’t know how many demigods are out there, but considering the amount of gods there actually are— it’s probably a few.  
  
“Undetermined, then. Don’t worry, you’ll find out soon enough.”  
  
He wonders if that’s true. There’s no father in his memories, no figure of one to speak of, and why would any father want to claim a kid like him? He may be a demigod, but he’s not—he’s not _special_.  
  
He’s not worrying.  
  
“C’mon, I’ll show you around.”

* * *

It’s a week after he’s joined the camp that he finds out.  
  
Jay hadn’t been doing anything of importance; wasn’t even using a sword or fighting off a huge monster or bad guy. Instead, he was just shoving a couple of grapes into the fire to sacrifice to the gods ( _uh, for Poseidon today, ‘cause that whole earthshaker thing is pretty cool_ ) as is the ritual before dinner. Seth’s chattering slowly fades, and Jay doesn’t understand why. The guy could go on talking for years and years if someone didn’t stop him.  
  
It’s only when he realises that there’s a glow on his hands, different to the orange the firelight gave off, that he looks up. There’s the sun and a two crossed arrows in front of it, wrapped in a circle together, and he hears hooves pounding on the ground behind him. Only then does he turn, to see all the other kids smiling at him, especially those on the seventh table, and Chiron’s at the forefront, looking as proud as he ever does when he looks at his demigods.  
  
“Hail, Jay Merrick, son of Phoebus Apollo, slayer of the mighty Python, father of prophecies, guide of the sun.”  
  
He’s ushered over the table seven by a bright, blond boy with brown eyes and the friendliest smile Jay’s ever seen. He introduces himself as Brian, and as soon as they reach the table, there are pats on the back and introductions all around. Jay already knew a couple of them from the training and lessons, but—  
  
but there’s something different about knowing someone as fellow demigod, and having the same father.  
  
For the first time since he’s arrived at the camp, Jay’s grin stretches across his whole face.  
  
( _gods, he has an actual family now._ )

* * *

Tim is introduced to him in the second week, having previously been content to skulk around the camp and train mostly by himself, previously. Brian drags him over to where Jay is placing a new arrow into his bow with clumsy fingers, almost dropping it once or twice, and despite his father being one of the hunter gods, he hasn’t quite taken to it yet.  
  
“Jay, this is Tim,” he’s told, and Jay nods once as he looks Tim over. He’s got sideburns that stand out more than anything, a mouth that doesn’t look like it smiles too much, a ridiculously plaid shirt and bags under his eyes. Though he doesn’t paint an impressive picture, Jay figures that he doesn’t either, and sticks his hand out to greet him instead. “Tim, Jay.” And Brian grins, like he’s just found the way to world peace and _everyone_ should be happy about it, which is honestly just his normal grin.  
  
“It’s nice to meet you,” Jay says, and Tim nods in return, though doesn’t move to shake his hand. They’re too busy meddling with some metals, so Jay drops his. Instead, Tim just smiles, a small, grimacing type of thing and it makes Jay wonder if anyone can make him smile wider than that. “.. D’you want to practice with me, or..?”  
  
“Sure,” Tim agrees, metal falling into his pockets as he picks up his own bow and arrow, and it’s a competition.  
  
Jay may be a son of Apollo, but Tim knows how to use weapons; he knows bows and arrows like the back of his palm, and Jay is blown away by his talent.  
  
(There’s admiration lingering beneath his skin, scratching at him and causing itches everywhere, and it’s a weird, unfamiliar feeling – but he doesn’t mind it.)

* * *

They start to spend more time together after that.  
  
It’s nice to get away from the loudness of the Apollo and Hermes kids, and the camp as a whole, and spend time with Tim instead. He quickly learns that he’s a son of Hephaestus, and he’s always got something in his hands that he meddles with.  
  
“Have you ever met your dad before?” Jay asks him one day, and Tim looks up from the tiny toy helicopter he was making, frowning for a second before shaking his head.  
  
“No, not that I remember. He doesn’t have as many kids as Hermes does, but… I guess he just never found the time, or something,” Tim says, spinning the blades of the helicopter absently as he stares at a point just above Jay and his brown hat. “Well, that’s what they’d like us to believe.”  
  
Jay hums in agreement, arms folded on the back of a chair and chin resting on them, watching Tim and his work intently. “Maybe one day,” he mutters, almost like a wish but without the hope that comes with one. “I mean, they know we’re here, that we exist, so… They haven’t—can’t have forgotten us completely.”  
  
Saying all of this makes Jay feel like he’s eight again, determined to believe that his father would show up on his birthday and surprise both him and his mother, and his mother would kiss him and actually tell him that she loves him.  
  
He didn’t.  
  
By the time he was ten, Jay had lost those hopes he had grown up with, and instead accepted the fact that he would be known as the kid with no father. Six years later, and look at him now.  
  
“It’s nice to hope, ain’t it?” Tim says, and Jay doesn’t reply.

* * *

“It’s pretty cool, you know? That you can build all this stuff.”  
  
Tim looks up from the sword he’d been melding, and Jay smiles at him, walking into the forge as he had done a thousand times by now. It’s the summer, most kids would be coming back now that school had ended, and Jay’s just turned seventeen.  
  
(For his birthday, Tim had given him a custom-made bow and arrow. It’s easier to wield, Jay’s found, and his skills with the weapons has improved greatly. He really is his father’s son.)  
  
“It comes with the territory,” Tim replies, setting the sword down to cool. “Like you’ve got an affinity for music and archery and healing, Hephaestus’s kids get building things.”  
  
“It’s still cool. I mean, you guys practically supply the camp with all the weapons we need, right? And you’re, uh—I think you’re the best out of them, honestly. Like my bow, and the other stuff you’ve made—no one can compare to them, I’m pretty sure.”  
  
At those words, Tim feels warm, like he’s managed to move a mountain all by himself. It spreads from his chest through his arms and into his legs, and he’s _proud_ that Jay thinks that way. Proud that it’s Jay who thinks that.  
  
He grins.

* * *

Tim somehow injures himself while working, and Jay’s the first one to arrive at the infirmary.  
  
(Of course, he’d run as fast as he could, almost tripping over everything that could be tripped on and scraping his palms up something terrible. But Tim’s more important than anything, so he doesn’t care about it until later.)  
  
It’s not anything really bad, nothing life threatening, but Jay worries anyway, placing his hands over the cut on his arm and muttering Greek hymns in the name of his father. His hands glow golden where their skin connects, and warmth spreads from one to the other. In no time, the damage is healed, and Tim looks up at Jay with something akin to admiration.  
  
“That’s pretty damn amazing,” he says, giving Jay a lopsided smile. Jay flushes.  
  
“It’s nothing that great…” he mutters, still an amateur in the healing arts but able to do the smaller things like this (especially if it means helping Tim).  
  
“It’s really something great, Jay.” Tim insists, and there’s a finality to his voice that has Jay smiling and flushing and it’s only Tim who can get him to react this way, really.  
  
He feels warm – warmer than his father, who drags the sun across the sky, and even warmer then.  
  
One of his hands hasn’t moved from where it had been resting on Tim’s arm, hairs tickling his palm lightly, and they don’t move and barely speak until another camper with an arrow in his foot is pulled inside. Then, they move to the Hephaestus cabin instead and hide in there together.

* * *

When the summer kids return to camp, it becomes more packed, and Jay’s introduced to the brothers and sisters he hadn’t met before. They’re all friendly enough, but he begs off some _bonding time_ between them to instead walk down to the Hephaestus Cabin again, something no one’s surprised about anymore.  
  
It’s while he makes his way down there that he sees a familiar face, and it stops him in his tracks, causing a couple of Aphrodite girls to hiss angrily at him for stopping so suddenly. He ignores them, watching this person walk forwards with their head down, until it raises and he sees him and oh gods--  
  
“Alex?”  
  
What the hell’s he doing here?  
  
“ _Jay?_ ”

* * *

“How long have you been coming here for?” Is the first thing Jay asks, because it’s kind of important that he didn’t realise before, didn’t know his best friend is a demigod and _man_ , both of them are and this is kind of, really cool.  
  
“A couple of years now. I mean, first chance my mom got, she dropped me off here for the summer. She moved to San Francisco, y’know, so I couldn’t stay there,” Jay nods, tries to look sympathetic, but he figures that maybe he’s a little too excited for that. “I stay with my grandparents and go to school there, and visit her whenever I can.”  
  
“Right. So, uh—who’s—who’s—“ Jay stumbles over his words, tongue twisting from excitement and elation at seeing one of his oldest friends here.  
  
“Who’s kid am I?” Alex asks, almost sounding amused, and Jay nods. “Nemesis. I bunk with Hermes’ kids.” The question’s returned, and Jay bites his bottom lip for a moment, before giving the other a sheepish grin.  
  
“Apollo.”  
  
There’s silence for a moment, and Alex is trying to smile but he doesn’t seem all that pleased to hear it – as though there’s a chance he missed out on grabbing. But then it’s broken by him as he looks over at Jay, gives him the same tight smile, and says, “It’s good to see you again, Jay.”

* * *

Without realising it, Jay starts spending more time with Alex than he does with anyone else. They’ve been friends since they were kids, and after Alex moved, they’d lost contact despite all promises not to. So it’s only natural, Jay thinks, that they would spend time catching up with one another. At least, that’s what he tells himself as he approaches Cabin 9.  
  
It’s been two, almost three, weeks since he last visited, last spoke to Tim, and that’s the longest he’s gone without speaking to him since they were first introduced. Normally he would just walk in, say hello to anyone else inside, and then drop down with Tim. This time, though, he does knock, and when the girl who answers (covered in oil, wearing work clothes and a bandanna tying her hair back), she looks relieved to see him there.  
  
“Jay, thank the gods,” she says, ushering him into the cabin. “Tim’s been all out of sorts since you stopped visiting. Go talk to him.”  
  
She pushes him to where Tim is, and Jay stumbles slightly, but manages to catch himself before he falls over completely.  
  
“Hey,” Jay says, and Tim looks up at him. He doesn’t say anything, and Jay shuffles awkwardly in spot before he points a thumb over his shoulder. “Can we… can we go talk? Outside?”  
  
It’s then that Tim sighs and nods and they don’t talk to each other until they’re walking along the edge of the beach. Wistfully, Jay wonders what it would be like to be one of Poseidon’s kids. (Then he remembers the family he has now, with the Apollo kids, and wipes that thought completely from his mind.)  
  
“You haven’t been around in a while,” Tim says first, and Jay grimaces, kicking at some of the sand with the toe of his shoes.  
  
“An old friend, I found out he came here. I kind of… got caught up in talking to him, and catching up.” he says, and avoids looking at Tim, because without realising it he’s missed the other, and the fact that it’s _his_ fault that they hadn’t spoken in so long--  
  
“I get it,” Tim murmurs, then sighs, drawn out and almost sad sounding. “It was just kind of weird not to have you there. I got used to having you around all the time. So much that you being gone for so long didn’t feel right.”  
  
“I’m sorry,” Jay blurts, his hands clasp together as he looks down at his feet. “I just—I didn’t mean to ditch you or anything, and I really do love hanging out with you. Just, y’know, it’s been ages since I’ve seen Alex and all, so I kind of got caught up in all of it.”  
  
Tim nods in understanding, and he’s smiling when Jay finally peeks at him out of the corner of his eye. “It’s fine, Jay. Really. I mean, I could have come and found you as well, but I didn’t, so you’re not fully to blame for it. And it’s not like we have to spend every moment together.”  
  
When he nods, Jay’s throat feels tight, as though he’s heard something he didn’t want to.  
  
“But, to make up for it,” Tim starts, and then stops for a second. It’s only when Jay can feel his head swimming from holding his breath for so long, as if to hear everything Tim had to say and take it to heart, that he speaks again. “Maybe… maybe you’d like to go to the Fourth of July fireworks with me?”  
  
There’s a moment of silence, and then, “Like… as in a _date_?” And Jay blushes all the way down to his neck when he realises that it doesn’t necessarily mean a date, of all things.  
  
“Yeah, as in a date.”  
  
“Oh,” Jay breathes, and then he grins, bright and wide – bigger than he ever has before. “I’d love to!”  
  
When they walk back to the pavilion, their hands are joined and there’s a flush on both their cheeks. _It was just a matter of time_ passes between the other campers, who send the two grins and thumbs up.

* * *

Alex and Jay don’t spend any time together for another week, despite Jay’s best efforts. It’s like Alex is avoiding him.

* * *

“Alex?”  
  
“ _What_ , Jay?”  
  
“Are you avoiding me?”  
  
“… No, I’m not. But I have to go. I’ll talk to you later.”

* * *

 

Days after the realisation, Jay’s woken by one of his brothers, who tells him Chiron wants him at the Big House. It takes him a while to wake up, and he pulls himself groggily from his bed and into a crumpled, orange shirt that declares him as a camper, but when he finally makes it to where he’s been summoned, the grim look on Chiron’s face wakes him up completely.  
  
“I’m afraid that Alex Kralie has left,” he says solemnly. “We found this on his bed.” He hands Jay a sheet of paper, which has his name on the top and there’s a circle with an X crossed through it. Jay only has a slight idea of what it means, from conversations in the dark of a man with no face and in a suit who can slow down and stop time, whispering all the things Alex wants to hear to him in his dreams.  
  
(The world’s dropping out from beneath Jay’s feet. It takes him a while to get there, but Tim catches him at the bottom, and it’s the only solace he has.)


End file.
